Of the Same Kind
by nannyandpotocrazy
Summary: What if the two most hated characters of the Phantom of the Opera found each other? REVIEW!


**Carlotta may be a little OOC, but she has to be for this story. :)**

**Raoul's POV**

To the bar. Again. I have been married to Christine for about seven years now. Though you may call us unhappy, it's quite the contrary really. The only thing that makes me bitter is the truth. The start with would be that even being married to Christine for seven years, I still do not own her. She does not belong to me. She will never belong to me. That damned Angel of Music has her heart and soul in his custody. The second part is more horrific that ones mind can even comprehend. Gustave is not mine. Yes that is right. I question his parentage. Gustave is musically inclined. More than Christine was at his age, and far more than myself. I, of course, know who his real father is. Christine plays me as a fool. But I know. I've always known. I've known since Gustave has been able to read music, at the age of four! Of course, I could never tell Christine. I would need an heir to carry on the name the Vicomte de Chagny. Since my brother, Philippe, has passed away, I would need to carry on his name, the Comte de Chagny. I sighed and took a swig of the brandy in front of me.

"Strongest thing you have." An Italian accent broke through my thoughts. I knew that voice, maybe a little too well. I turned my head to the left to see. Carlotta. I tilted my head sideways and she finally looked at me. A small smile crept on her face as the realization hit her.

"Vicomte." She said quietly. She looked terrible. Their were bags under her eyes. She looked tired and empty. Her soul seemed lost. Then, I remembered... Ubaldo Piangi was killed in the fire. As was Philippe. Well, I don't necessarily know whether it was the fire or that _Angel._

"La Carlotta." I greeted her respectfully. She smiled slightly, and stared down at the liquor in front of her. Not only did she seem empty, but she wasn't dressed in her usual attire. Minks, diamonds, rings, and her poodle. Funny. That's how women who belonged to aristocracy dressed. Wait a second, what was I thinking? I shook my head, and she looked at me.

"Are you okay, Monsieur?"

"I'm not sure. I think it may be just a little too much brandy."

"I know what you mean. Since Piangi has... _passed,_" She gulped. "I've been the same way." Her perfectly arched eyebrows then furrowed. "But, what do you have to be melancholy about? From what I've heard, you are happily married and have a beautiful son."

I sighed. "It's all an act, Mademoiselle. We may seem happy from her point of view but I'm certainly not. Gustave is well... not mine. He is not of my flesh and blood." I can't believe I had just told her this! I've never told anyone that secret before! Damned Brandy...

"I always knew Christine was a whore." She muttered. I looked at her and her eyes widened. "I'm sorry, Monsieur! I didn't..." She sighed obviously not knowing what to say.

"It's quite alright, Carlotta. She has no idea that I know."

"Well, who is the father? If he is not yours, of course." I breathed deeply. Her words had caused a pain in my heart. It hurt to say.

"The Phantom." She stared blankly at me, then returned to her drink. She didn't seem at all surprised. She then answered, as if she could read my mind.

"I'm not the least bit surprised, Monsieur. I always knew she had a soft spot for him."

"He killed Piangi, no?" I saw her body stiffen at this, and looked up to see unshed tears threatening to fall out of her green irises. She nodded probably not trusting her voice. I bowed my head and said a short prayer. She managed to smile under the circumstances.

"Well, I must be going." She said. "I'm a bar hopper as one would say. I hope you still have time to save your marriage. You're both still so young. In my opinion, you'll be okay. As for the boy, raise him as if he is your own flesh and blood. His real father is not here to raise him. Why not be a father figure, if not a father?" And with that, she left.

I'll admit, when she left through the doors of the restaurant it saddened me slightly. She made me confess my darkest secrets without barely trying. We had so much in common... Kind of...

_**Review? I think I may just keep this as a one-shot.**_


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